


the moon answers when you cry in the woods

by royalgreen (allyoop)



Series: Fictober 2020 [5]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Feels, Blood, Dark, Fictober, Flashbacks, Gen, Halloween Challenge, Hurt No Comfort, Magic Gone Wrong, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mystery, Panic Attacks, Secret Identity, Secrets, Spooky, Werewolves, What-If, Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyoop/pseuds/royalgreen
Summary: Caleb is missing memories, but the pieces he is left with terrify him.
Series: Fictober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954570
Kudos: 34





	the moon answers when you cry in the woods

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober prompt: "into the woods"

Caleb was  _ hungry _ ; ribs tight against the empty cavern of his stomach, his heartbeat echoing louder in the hollow. It has been so long since he had any real food, and scraps dug out from the refuse behind shops were barely recognizable as sustenance. His mouth was so dry he wouldn’t be surprised to cough up dust instead of spit.

He had been alone for months, feet more mud than blood now, twigs and thorns ruining the only threadbare outfit he had escaped with. He would sneak into lonely villages when the moon was the only light and grab what he could, but it was always so little, never enough, never filling his hunger.  _ Hunger _ . All he felt was hunger.

The moon.

He never ventured into towns when it was sunlight, he didn’t want to be caught, didn’t want to be seen. He couldn’t remember why. His habits were borderline feral now, scavenging from trash or stealing still-raw meats from their salt cure storage. Those were feast days when he found them.

_ The moon _ . 

Something dragged a sharp knife through his memory, pushing him awake from his ravenous delirium. The moon was almost full. Why did this bother him? 

There have always been gaps in his memory, but it felt like his middle years were nearly all gone. There were anchors: bright memories of a childhood, glances of some school years, a flash of a blonde and a smile. Then it crumbled, fine sand through his fingers, and whole years were missing. There was white, sterile,  _ pain _ , sharp silver that cut and hurt deeper than it should. There were shackles, chains, with familiarity once a month; walls that were gored by some unknown thing. He remembered blood, he remembered it wasn’t all his own.

If he tried to dig further, tried to solidify one of those more recent memories, he would be grabbed with a vise across his throat. Panic and bile and fear rising up in him, his mind sliding away somewhere blank to save him.

Caleb had stopped trying to remember. Maybe it was better that he forgot.

But seeing the moon,  _ white, sterile, pain, sharp, silver _ , was causing the same reaction now. He could still see it as he ran back into the edges of the forest where he had been sleeping this week, secreted meats in his pockets. He risked glancing up, trying to perceive it between the branches rather than looking directly into its face. The same metallic mixture of fear was clogging his throat and he staggered against a tree. How long had it been since the last moon? Caleb dug his fingernails into the bark of the tree, relishing the splinters and their grounding pain. He could do this, he could think.  _ How many days _ … it’s been twenty-nine since the last full moon.  _ What happens on a full moon? _

On a full moon he-

_ No _ .

It was slipping again, water slipping into the roots of a thirsty tree, memories stolen from him. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, struggling to choke down the nausea and forced himself to really see. To really  _ know _ . 

It was almost another full moon. 

Another night of waking up with blood under his nails.

Another night of throwing up under a tree, fur and bone mixed with bile. His body exhausted but his hunger finally,  _ finally _ , sated.

Another moon.

Caleb let go of the tree, sinking to his knees as the knowledge pushed through his own mental blocks. He knew what he was. It was irrevocable. He was worse than some feral scamp in the woods, surviving off stolen goods from humanity. He was a monster. 

His pain turned into sobs turned into a howl. 

He heard no echo in the woods. The dense trees ate all of his cries.

He would be more afraid if he had heard the response, but it was a whisper amongst the forest and his own howl covered the sound.

_ Alone, alone, alone _ .

_ Are you alone, lone wolf? _

_ Would you like a meal, lonely wolf? _

_ Wouldn't you come join me, and then you wouldn’t be alone, alone, alone. _

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to spooky season :) 
> 
> Thanks for every comment, kudos, and encouragement as always! <3
> 
> (As always, feel free to follow me on [tumblr](https://caleb-says-nein.tumblr.com/) for more critrole shenanigans, or to prompt me with more fic to write!)


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